The Grinch's Heart
by Nerdtendo
Summary: It's shrunken in size so that the wound holds tight. Little Whos have helped it grow twice. What of the third time, when the small is now tall?
1. Forward

Author's Forward.

Hello! If you got an e-mail, then you liked my very, very, VERY old story Shelled Secrets. I would like to thank you humbly for the interest. To my account, I believe said e-mail would go to two people. Lady of the Squirrels, whom I am a good friend with and hasn't written for as long as I have (that's a lie, but I was never good with time) and one other person who e-mailed me saying that they liked my work. If your not one of those two…I thank you as well! I just wasn't expecting other people…

Anyway, I'm back from a long hiatus. I have a few stories in my head…and I've wanted to write them, but writer's block plus drama with a few other things has bogged me down for years. …Mostly the drama. And my own sloth. …But in any case, I'm back, and I've learned a lot…and I DO plan on writing a new story on something that has been fascinating me for the longest time (which, funny enough, isn't one of the stories that I had writer's block. We'll get to there.)

Ladies and Gentlemen: I'm back. And my first story…is with The Grinch.


	2. Chapter 1: The Grinch is Back!

Way up there, out on Mount Krumpit. Alone in the blizarding snow,

Lurks the well known figure, the one and only Grinch, which but a few times, you have been shown.

But would you believe me, if I told you this, that he's been a Grinch for more then just Christmas?

He's been around other holidays too, my dear boy or girl. But he particularly hates Saint Nicholas.

But we've all seen that story, in the snow with the trees

filled with lights and songs humming in the air like bees.

We've seen the insanity and the psychosis of this What.

But see everything? Why, you've seen anything but.

The Grinch has to come out, you know child. Otherwise he would be forgotten.

And like anybody else, that's a grim fate. Even the Grinch believes that'd be rotten.

On Halloween, he'll terrorize the whole Who nation! Lugging his paraphernalia wagon along.

"A Grinch Night Ball!" he proclaims as he dances on the plantation. And by sun rise, all but the memory is gone.

But that memory, little friend, is what he strives for. He needs it! Or else the Whos forget.

They begin to think "He isn't so bad!" and so they draw close like a magnet.

But the Grinch, he fears the memory of his past. Pointed Laughter and whirring blades of pain!

It drives a man mad, my friend, and so he hides. That's why he isn't considered sane.

Little Cindy Lou Who, who on occasions, two, warmed the heart of the What.

Things where fine for the first week or so…but then trouble started to become Blhat.

The Grinch, he saw flashes of insight from his past. A hand gesture from mittens, you see,

Looks only like two fingers, and with expressive gestures that last, he thought once again "They're pointing at me."

Every little crane removing ornaments, preparing for the New Who Year,

Made the same whirring and buzzing sound as the razor that fills him with fear.

So without a trace, he leaves once again. And in a month's time in solitude,

His maniacal mind is made up, I'm afraid. His heart shrinks with eve-

"SHUT UP ALREADY!" Shouted the Grinch. He flung a bottle of 1947 at the ceiling. "I deserve a little peace and quiet, you blithering blockhead." He sighed, relaxing back on the busted up piece of junk, cobweb, ash and dirt that he called a sofa. "The rhyming was getting' on my nerves. …Well…Lets see what's on the boob toob." He says to himself as he picks up a remote. He presses a few buttons, aiming it at an old TV that he had just recently found. It remains blank. "...Beh. What, this thing ain't got any juice in it?" He eyes the back of the remote, then smacks it against his hands to take a look at the batteries. Two Double Doubleyous. He licks the battery along the end. "…hrmm…" he says to himself. "Well…looks like there's just enough power to turn it on." Flinging the remote at the screen, hitting the power button and turning it on. The Screen has what can only barely be considered 'reception'. "My god…My cameras along the snowing parts of this blasted mountain show less white sprinkles then this! …All right. Lets see what we can do here." He stands, looking around. "I hope I've got some pipes here or some coat hangers so I don't have to go outside and fetch it."


	3. Chapter 2: Cindy Lou Why, a Tragic Fall

The Grinch walked out of his crack in the mountain he called a home, muttering. "Blasted Whos cant make anything decent. It all falls to pieces by the time it gets up here." The snow crunching underneath his furry toes, he walked along what could only be defined as a path due to the layers of garbage and rubbish on either side of it. As he walked, he looked down Mt. Crumpit, his eyes, veiny red from insanity (or simply from just a poor diet) peering down to Whoville. Where the snow was slowly melting. Of course, the top of the hill was always laden with frost ever since he got up here. Was it always like that? He couldn't recall, his memories laid elsewhere.

!

He closed his eyes and shook his head. The Noise. If it isn't the Whos as a reminder why, it's the reason itself. He picked up a cracked sled to lift it up to see beneath it. "Gahh. How could Max stand the smell?" He paused, lifted his free arm to smell the pit, then nods. "Right, right."

Meanwhile, Little Cindy Lou Who, down in Whoville below, looked to her father as he shoveled the melting snow.

"Why didn't you tell me, daddy? That this happened before? Why did you let me forget this when I was less then four?"

And Drew replied, with a "Heave Ho~! Well…At this point, I don't think-, er, grab that hoe.

At this point, darling, I think it's useless now to try to convince the Grinch that he can coexist in this town. He's left twice, darling. And that's all that needs to be said. Now be a good girl and take the hoe to the shed."

"But daddy!" she exclaimed, as she picked up the garden tool. "Darling," Said he, "Don't bicker and drool. The Grinch is a lost cause, no longer a Who."

"But the reason that he," said Cindy Lou Who, "ran away from this all was because of our thoughts! We all said the same thing-"

"_I'm ending these blots!_"

His father, tired from the hard work at hand, took her daughter's shoulder and said with no bland, "The Grinch is dangerous. He should be avoided now. You've tested fate twice with the Grinch close to your flaow. Please, I beg you, give it a rest. This is not something that we need to test."

And so Cindy Lou nodded, hesitantly so, as she walked to the tool shed, in her hand that old hoe. But she looked to the horizon, where the mountain arises. Surely there was someone who had the same eyes as this girl who saw the Grinch could arrive as a proper Who fellow, who's comradeory and work can also still applieses…

As the Grinch returned to the inside of his home, he-

"Interrupted you. That's enough rhyming."

Sorry.

As he came inside, wet from the snow on his legs, he looked over to an old put-together pile of planks and nails. It was painted at one point, before the Grinch took it apart to make the craft. A plastic ring before the opened end of this hallowed structure. And while it was not in the Grinch's nature to be organized, this structure was labled. The sign read 'MAX'.

The Grinch sat down. He looked to the canister of gell. It was glowing, so surely it was useful somehow. But to be honest, at the moment, he didn't have the energy. His hand wrapped around the canister like he did around that rock.

"MAX! Get over here, you mutt!" Shouted the Grinch as they returned to their lair. "I'm tired of waitin-"

-_CRASHGAH!_

"YIPE!" "MAX!" The Grinch turned back to see what had happened! An avalanche of some sort fell upon the hound. He ran over to the result, and started to dig his companion out of the rubble, but by the time he found Max…it was too late. He pulled away the last rock to find Max, still. No sounds of pain. It was much too tragic for him to put down the stone.

The Grinch couldn't shake his head away from this vision for the rest of the day. It was too fresh.


End file.
